


A practical study of erotic art

by Mallorn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Naughty art history lessons, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallorn/pseuds/Mallorn
Summary: You have been selected for participation in Grand Admiral Thrawn’s very practical study of art history. PWP.





	A practical study of erotic art

**Author's Note:**

> Some of this was inspired by actual erotic art, other scenes are made up. I had hoped to link to the paintings and drawings used for inspiration, but alas, I haven’t been able to find them online, so you’ll just have to use your imagination.
> 
> This can be read either as a stand-alone, or as an extra chapter of Imperial Style.

You applied as soon as the announcement came out. Taking part in a practical study of art history hosted by Grand Admiral Thrawn himself sounded very exciting, an opportunity not to be missed. The selection process was thorough, as could be expected from the sharp-minded Chiss. There were lots of questions to answer in the questionnaire linked to the announcement, and few seemed to have anything to do with art, but you answered everything dutifully, and as truthfully as you were able to. And now, you read the evidence of your admission on the screen of your work station.

_You have been selected for participation in the study of art history for which you applied. Present yourself in Section Delta, room 1604a, at 20 hrs SGT. Informal dress. N.B. This is a classified activity not to be discussed with those not admitted._

The workshop was already tonight! You went through the rest of your tasks beaming with excitement, careful not to disclose the reason for your good mood. Finally, finally your bookish interests were an asset, rather than a reason for ridicule by your fellow junior officers, who preferred to spend their time drinking and chatting, and would read or study something only when an absolute necessity. Many had applied for the grand admiral’s study nevertheless, believing it a golden opportunity to be noticed by the legendary man. You were dying to know who else had been selected.

It felt odd to go to a scheduled activity not in uniform, but the grey loose-fitting slacks and shirt you had chosen were comfortable and neat, without drawing unnecessary attention that might lead to someone asking what you’d dressed up for. You’d rather not lie.

Section Delta was new to you, but appeared to offer the same facilities as other conference and office spaces you had been to. Even at this hour the area was teeming with activity, personnel filing in an out of meeting rooms. Room 1604 was easy enough to find, a medium-sized classroom with a few occupants, but 1604a, which ought to be near, proved elusive. With only a minute to spare, you gave up your search and turned to a confident-looking passer-by for help.

“1604a? Better ask the admin.” The ensign pointed in the direction of an office. Of course. The woman inside looked you up and down, assessing you for what felt like an eternity before she nodded and finally answered your question.

“Through that door and down the stairs. Make sure it locks behind you.” She touched the panel on her desk and an anonymous door beside her office opened to reveal a flight of stairs. “The Grand Admiral’s office,” she remarked, answering your puzzled gaze. “Not one word.”

You nodded, too taken aback by her serious expression to even offer polite words of thanks, and slipped into the stairwell. The door closed behind you without a sound. Pushing it proved fruitless, so apparently the lock worked fine.

As you approached the floor below, another door, at the end of the stairs, opened to reveal the impressive form of Grand Admiral Thrawn in customary, impeccable white. You did a double take, going over the instructions in your head that had specifically said to dress informally. Nevertheless, your hand flew to your non-existent cap in a salute.

Thrawn answered it with a miniscule additional straightening of his already impeccable posture, while keeping his usual cool demeanour and politely pretending not to notice your less than professional reaction to seeing him.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said once you’d presented yourself with name and rank. “This is an off-duty activity,” he explained, “and you are thus not required to wear a uniform, nor are you formally under my command for the duration of said activity. You may however, if you wish, refer to me as ‘sir’ as a sign of respect.”

“Thank you, sir.” You were relieved – there was no way you’d be able to treat him like any other fellow crew member. Besides, he was the teacher and a known authority on the topic to be studied, which warranted respect by itself. He could have dressed less the part if he’d wanted to avoid formality.

“My choice of attire puzzles you,” he stated, correctly. “For one such as myself there are certain standards that must be upheld. A Grand Admiral can never expect to be truly in private.”

“Of course, sir.”

He inclined his head slightly and made a gesture towards the room. “Welcome, and thank you for taking an interest in this topic. I look forward to our evening together.”

“I’m the one who should thank you for the opportunity to learn, sir.”

“I believe we will both learn something tonight.” He tilted his head towards the room.

You passed him into what turned out to be a generous office space, with some of the furniture moved aside to make room for a raised platform surrounded by holoprojectors. A number of large cushions in sombre colours had been placed on the platform. There were six chairs around the conference table beside it, but no occupants.

“Am I the only participant, sir?”

He nodded and stood at your side, hands folded on his back. “I initially considered selecting a male as well. I decided, however, to disregard that idea as a greater level of satisfaction could plausibly be gained from practical participation on my part, as opposed to assuming a merely observational role. I believe I am human enough in the sense relevant.”

“Absolutely, sir,” you confirmed. Regardless of what sense that would prove to be, the Grand Admiral had shown over and over that he was as competent as any human. “So… we will conduct this study together, just you and I?”

“Indeed.”

“Sir, I am so honoured, I don’t know what to say. May I ask what made you think me suitable for this?”

“Please have a seat and I will explain.”

You sat down in one of the chairs, only now noticing a folder on the table. It was a deep brown colour and made of expensive-looking fabric. It appeared quite ancient. Thrawn sat beside you and took the folder between his hands. “This is quite simple,” he said. “Your scores were the highest in the areas I deemed important. According to the test, you are accurate and diligent, while also being curious and open to novelty. You are loyal and respectful to your superior, and you appear able to keep classified information to yourself.”

“Is this secret, then?”

“This study will be conducted for my personal benefit, its results for my perusal only. They are of a sensitive character and will not be made public.”

You pondered this, your curiosity growing by the second. “It sounds like the art we will study is rather controversial.”

“Correct.” He studied you closely as he continued to speak. “The subject will be Terran erotic art of the late 19th century, and the scope is to attempt to recreate a number of the scenes depicted with the aim of rendering them into holographic representations. Furthermore, I endeavour to gain further insight into the topic of human sexuality during the course of this study.”

“I… I see, sir.”

“Does this embarrass you? I am aware that humans are typically less open with this aspect of their lives than is common among my people.”

You thought about that for a second before answering. “Not really, sir. It is an unusual topic to discuss with someone who isn’t a partner or a close friend, but I’m not prudish. Rather just a bit overwhelmed with being alone with you, sir, and more than a little excited.”

“Very good. I want you to be completely honest with me. Your thoughts and reactions will serve to deepen my knowledge. Now, look at this.”

He opened the folder and produced a book in a protective leather cover, then handed it to you. Very carefully you opened the pages, reverently touching the paper. The prints were of amazing quality, the colours vibrant and the pages glossy in spite of the frequent handling it seemed to have been through. The pictures showed women and couples in various stages of undress and in different sexual situations, from innocent kisses to very graphically depicted intercourse.

“You want to make three-dimensional copies of some of these works, sir?”

“A small selection of them,” he confirmed, “and nothing too explicit. By using a live model I hope to achieve a higher level of accuracy in my humble attempts than if limited to imagination and memory.”

“But… I look nothing like the women in these pictures. And they’re all very different from each other.”

“Worry not. I plan to spend many pleasurable evenings refining the result. My requirement tonight is ground work for the initial stage.”

“Okay… so I will pose on the platform and you’ll record this?”

“The process will also involve some touching to some extent.”

“Touching, sir?”

“Placing fingers onto intimate parts of the body.”

“I understand.” You blushed and turned to the next page, masking your surprise by taking an exaggerated interest in the couple depicted there, a naked woman on all fours, facing the artist, with her almost fully dressed lover behind her. His hands were on her hips, gripping her lush flesh as he pounded into her. From their facial expressions, they were both enjoying it immensely.

Thrawn leaned closer, himself taking a thorough look at the image before speaking next.

“What are your feelings upon viewing this material? Perusal of it is, to my understanding, expected to bring about a level of arousal in the viewer.”

“It does,” you answered truthfully. “These are hot pictures. I also feel anticipation, and some apprehension. To be honest, I’m a little frightened, sir.”

“Why is that?” A quick glance at him confirmed his puzzlement. “Do you expect this study to cause you harm or be painful in some way? I assure you it will not.”

“No, I trust you, sir. It’s more a fear of rejection, of not proving adequate for your purpose.” Even if your body was far from perfect, it would be humiliating to have it rejected by a non-human…

“You indicated an element of anticipation is present as well.”

“I look forward to working with you on this, sir. I find you very attractive, so the very idea of you _touching_ me is exciting. That is, if you will want to.” Your voice faltered.

He studied you with knitted eyebrows. “Whatever faults you believe yourself to have, they affect neither your hearing, nor your perception.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. You wouldn’t have invited me if you hadn’t already decided I’d be… adequate.”

“Correct. Now, this should be enough for an introduction and we will proceed to the next step. Unless you have changed your mind.”

“Never, sir. Let’s begin, please. I’m ready.”

You returned the book to him and he opened it on one of the first pages, one that showed a young woman sitting reclined against a cushion with her knees pulled up and her legs parted. She was nude with the exception of a heavy necklace and a scarf that covered part of her hair, and her serious facial expression contrasted radically with the exposed pose. The overall impression was of exquisite beauty rather than lasciviousness.

“The favourite wife of a maharaja,” commented Thrawn, then raised his eyebrow when you didn’t reply. “We will begin now.”

“Oh. Of course.” You shrugged off your clothes fast and went to the platform, in a hurry to show the Grand Admiral that he hadn’t been wrong in picking you. You arranged the cushions behind your back and reclined against them. The pose wasn’t difficult to assume; the hard part was to ignore your beating heart and try to relax under his gaze.

“I brought a few props,” he said. “Don’t move.” He proceeded to put a necklace over your head, a golden metal one, with several heavy pendants that rested against your skin just above your breasts. The featherlike touches as he straightened and arranged the pendants made you shiver, he was so close. A shawl went on top of your hair, its ends arranged loosely around your shoulders.

Thrawn took a step back and admired his work. “Open your legs a little further.”

You obeyed, blushing again as his eyes stared with intent at you.

“Further still. Yes, perfect.” He tilted his head and looked closer. “The similarity is more than adequate; all that is missing is a certain sheen, here.” He showed you the picture and indicated the glistening folds of the maharaja’s favourite.

“That can be arranged, sir,” you said, encouraged by the Grand Admiral’s obvious approval of your appearance. You made to lift your hand, but he stilled you with a gesture.

“Allow me.”

You leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek. His gaze never left yours as he brought the forefinger of his other hand to your mouth, sliding it over your bottom lip until you allowed him entrance. You lavished the fingertip with your tongue, enjoying how his eyes seemed to glow brighter.

He withdrew the digit and brought it, now wet, between your legs, rubbing your clit gently. Your breath hitched as he made contact, the intimacy with the great man as overwhelming as the physical pleasure it brought you. His fingers swept downward, running first over your folds, then edging in between them. You had to bite your lip not to cry out.

“If you experience a need to vocalize, you may.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your reply came out in a throaty moan. “Ah, it feels so good, sir.”

“That should be sufficient,” he declared after a couple of more strokes. “Yes, excellent.” He backed off a few steps and then pressed the remote to record your image from all sides.

You returned shawl and the necklace reluctantly, already fond of being watched by Thrawn. The pendants caught in your hair and you gratefully accepted his help detangling it. He stood so close, his fingers so gentle against your skin as he opened the necklace, his touch incredibly sensual, to the point of making you sigh softly.

His brows knitted. “This touching is not sexual in nature,” he remarked. “I am not even caressing you ‒ merely assisting with a quite mundane task.”

“I know, sir. But you touched me differently earlier, and this makes me think about that, and wonder if you’ll touch me like that again. And just the physical sensation of skin dragging gently against skin is very pleasurable.”

“I see.”

You let out another sigh and closed your eyes as his fingertips danced lightly around your throat, tracing collarbones, finding the hollow at the nape of your neck.

  
_Illustrations for this story by  the talented Imperialgradients. Thank you so much :-)_

“Interesting,” he remarked and picked up the book again. “The next scene is a quite different pose.” He showed you an image of a woman standing on all fours, leaning on her elbows as she looked back seductively over her shoulder, presumably at a lover. Her skirt was hitched up high and her plump buttocks and white thighs were fully exposed, as well as her pink sex between them.

You pulled on the old-fashioned dress provided and did your best to assume the desired position, feeling quite naughty as you turned your head to look at the Grand Admiral, who had just arranged the skirt to his satisfaction.

“Very good,” he declared. “I will just add a final touch to help you acquire the necessary facial expression.”

He began to stroke you again, now and then altering by pressing into your wetness with a shallow, maddening touch.

“Oh, sir, please!”

He rubbed more intensely as you stared at him through half-lidded, lust-dazed eyes.

“Precisely like that.” He made the holo, and then resumed fingering you. “A small reward is in order,” he stated and plunged his fingers deep into you while he rubbed your clit with the other hand. His breathing was heavy now, just like yours, and his eyes glowed intensely.

This time, he didn’t stop until you cried out in abandon.

“Now this,” he rasped and displayed a scene with several women half-standing or sitting around a table, while being touched by a number of men with their erect cocks peeking out of their trousers. There was a lot of humour in the picture, but not too much realism with how the man in the foreground was sticking his cock between the splits in the back of a chair as he tried to spear the giggling woman preparing to take a seat. The organ was fat, smooth and very red. “This needs male participation,” you stated, your eyes flying to Thrawn’s groin.

“Indeed.” He opened his fly without further ado, revealing a different-looking, but equally appealing organ.

“May I?”

“Affirmative.”

You ran your fingers tentatively along the length of him, smiling coyly when it stood even prouder. Its owner didn’t move a muscle. Not until he decided it was time to continue and lifted a chair onto the platform. You eyed it critically, then looked at the picture again, and at Thrawn.

“May I offer a suggestion, sir?”

“Initiatives are always welcome.”

“I think this scene would be more plausible if we move the chair.” You tugged it to stand in front of you, placed a foot on the seat and gripped the back for support. “This way, sir, offers improved visibility, as well as accessibility.”

He gripped your hips and tilted his head, pondering, then nodded.

“I agree.” You continued to look at him, watching with satisfaction how his expression changed when the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. You would have loved to watch him longer, had it not been for your protesting neck. Regardless, it felt wonderfully decadent to stand like this, exposed for him, imagining him sliding into you, blue against pink, stretching you.

“I am inclined to improve further on this scene,” he announced while applying slight pressure. “I believe partial insertion would enhance it further.”

“Please, sir, yes.”

He proceeded to enter you very slowly, all the while pushing the buttons on the remote to record multiple images of various stages of the process. He moved agonizingly slowly, filling and stretching you so well, only to withdraw fully once the recording was done. You whined with disappointment.

“Sir, your self-control will be the end of me.”

He pursed his lips. “Do I need to remind you that this is a serious study, not an excuse for frivolous fraternization?”

You sighed, climbing off the chair. You couldn’t hesitate to rub at your clit in the process, stifling a moan under the Grand Admiral’s admonishing stare.

“Do I?” he asked again, sudden coldness creeping into his voice. You did not want to hear that directed at you ever again.

“No, sir.”

“Good. This will be the last study object.” He showed a page that displayed a woman resting on a bed, hands over her head, hair mussed, legs partially spread and a dizzy, content expression in her half-lidded eyes. Her mouth was open a little, as if she had just sighed with content.

“She looks well fucked, sir,” you blurted.

“Mind your language. I do agree with your sentiment, however, that the lady has had recent intercourse. This rendition is not a mandatory part of the study, I should inform you.”

“I’d very much like it to be, sir.”

“Very well. I admit I harboured such hopes.” He rolled out a self-inflatable mattress on the platform and covered it with a sheet. “Lie down on your back.”

You did as he said, watching with rising anticipation as he swiftly divested. Finally you could behold him in all his glory, his muscular, well-toned body that would soon be upon yours, crushing you into the mattress as those strong hands held you down. The mere idea made you let out an impatient whimper.

“Patience is a virtue,” he declared calmly.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Your lapse is forgivable, and in this particular situation even desirable.”

The mattress dipped considerably under the weight of him. Soon you would feel him inside of you, his hard, smooth cock fucking into you. You moaned again.

“Soon,” he said and caught both your wrists in one hand, pushing them into the mattress above your head. He ran his other hand over your belly, staring with open mouth at how it made you tremble. Two fingers pushed into you, the pad of his thumb pressing your clit. You moaned and writhed under his ministrations, bucking against his hand to take him deeper.

“Please, fuck me, sir!”

“If you desire penetration, you may ask me in cultured language.”

“I desire it very much, sir.” You were far beyond elaborate expressions, yet his formal speech turned you on. You would try your best to please him. “Please, sir,” you said throatily, “please insert… apply…give me… penile penetration.”

“It will be my pleasure to do so.”

After that, there was very little in the way of formal speech. Thrawn knelt between your legs and entered you swiftly, the suddenness of it making you gasp. His strong arms at your sides caged you in and you relished in the feeling of surrender as you continued to keep your arms above your head in the position he had left them in. He fucked you efficiently, in deep, even strokes. You met each one with eagerness, relishing in the grunts and purrs that began to spill from his lips as he continued to thrust.

“Harder, please, sir,” you moaned. “More… vigorously… I mean.”

“Certainly.”

You were whimpering helplessly under his assault, as he pounded into you with abandon, finally unleashing his full passion.

“You don’t seem too opposed to alien invasion,” he whispered seductively into your ear.

“Thra-a-awn,” you moaned, riding your climax. “You are human in all the ways that count.”

He released with a grunt and sank his teeth into your shoulder, just below your ear. The sharp pain made you cry out, and he momentarily let go.

“I apologize,” he said gravely. “You made me forget myself.” He looked truly apologetic and you pulled him into a kiss to show that you had already forgiven him. You felt him stir, still inside you, and you clenched in anticipation of more.

“I believe you mentioned self-restraint earlier,” he said. “I will practice this now. The study needs to be concluded.” His voice left no hope of deviation from this plain.

“Of course,” you said with forced enthusiasm, unwilling to admit that you’d long forgotten the reason for ending up in bed with Thrawn.

“You promised me honesty,” he remarked as he began to arrange your limbs in semblance of those of the woman in the picture.

“I’d rather just remain here,” you confessed. “I never want to get up.”

“Excellent. I believe that is the precise state of mind required for this composition. Now, be quiet.”

He continued to adjust your pose and while doing so ran his fingers languidly over your skin, making it quite easy to lose yourself to the feeling of lazy, satisfied afterglow.

Much too soon the recording was done and it was time to get up and leave.

“I am sorry,” Thrawn said again as you dressed, indicating the bruised skin on your shoulder. “For all my years spent among humans, I remain an outsider. I am aware of this fact.”

“You are an amazing man, Grand Admiral, and I am deeply honoured to have met you. You honour the Empire by serving together with us.”

“I will always be grateful for the opportunity to do so. And I thank you sincerely for your participation tonight.”

You nodded. This was turning far too solemn.

“Sir,” you asked hopefully, “will there be more practical art studies?”

He seemed taken aback by the question, but very pleased, judging from the smile that suddenly graced his lips.

“I believe this can be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
